


Folding Paper Cranes

by imagine_ice_babes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 1000 Paper Cranes, AU, Fluff, Japan, Love at First Sight, M/M, Origami, Paperman AU, Pining, Viktor is a businessman, Viktor's life is boring, Yakov is kind of an ass, paper cranes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine_ice_babes/pseuds/imagine_ice_babes
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is a lonely Russian businessman who dedicates his entire being to his work. A business trip to Japan brings him to his senses when the most beautiful man he's ever seen catches his attention. He finds himself feeling empty and lifeless after encountering a certain pair of brown eyes, and he'll do anything to get to know them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by Disney Pixar's short film "Paperman." It also ties in the Japanese legend that says if you fold 1,000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. I would like to thank @anais-jengibre on tumblr for giving me the idea for using paper cranes instead of paper airplanes. This story is dedicated to them :3 I hope you enjoy! I love feedback :3  
> Check out my ([tumblr](http://imagine-ice-babes.tumblr.com/))  
> ([buy me a coffee?](http://https://ko-fi.com/A614HW4))

While he stands at the train platform, a breeze brushes Viktor’s bangs from his face. Light gray hairs tickle at his nose and cheek as they move with the dynamic of the current. The platform is abandoned, leaving him alone save for the silence, the smog, and the wind. A train passes by, gusting air and dirt around the platform and causing the edges of Viktor’s gray suit to flap around in its wake. He squints to see through the dust, not changing the dull expression on his face. Viktor knows appearance is important, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care at this very moment.

It’s Viktor’s first time in Japan, but it still feels the same as any other city he’s traveled to. Whether it’s his lack of attention to detail or if he just doesn’t care to distinguish the differences between locations, he isn’t sure. Another business trip abroad is not news to Viktor, but this one is a bit more important. His company has been working relentlessly on this pitch for years, countless hours put in by nearly one hundred people are leading up to this afternoon’s meeting. Making this deal with the Japanese company will rest on his shoulders. Even though there’s so much on the line, he doesn’t feel nervous or excited. He just feels...bored.

Viktor looks down at his polished black dress shoes and sighs. He has probably six other pairs of the exact shoes. There’s nothing special about them, much like there is nothing special about anything else he owns.

A shuffling sound catches his ear, and Viktor glances to his left to locate the source of the sound. He takes one look, and his heart flutters in his chest at the sight. His blue eyes light up in an instant; the lines and wrinkles around his eyes seem to disappear as his expression lifts into a soft—and somewhat reverent—look of wonder.

A young man, probably around the age of twenty-four, is running towards Viktor on the platform. Viktor admires his dark hair and smoothness of his face while he comes closer. They way his sleek hair brushes across his forehead takes Viktor’s breath away, and the light blush that touches the tops of his cheeks only adds to his beauty. He’s wearing a black suit with a white dress shirt and a blue tie; typical business attire, Viktor notes. He’s calling out something in Japanese towards the train, probably begging for the driver to wait for him. Viktor can’t understand a word he says, but he finds himself lost in the smoothness of his voice. The rhythm of the syllables he speaks gets stuck in Viktor’s head like an annoying, overplayed pop song on the radio. All Viktor can do is gawk at him, frozen in place while his heart runs rampant.

The man stumbles a bit as he approaches Viktor, dropping the file folder he was clutching to his chest. The trance the man had placed on Viktor is broken as he startles him with his papers falling to the ground at his feet.

Viktor blinks a few times, trying to get a grip on reality. For a moment, he forgot where he was and who he is. It just didn’t seem to matter. Pushing these racing thoughts aside, he quickly bends down to help the man recollect his papers. He’s muttering something in Japanese while he joins Viktor on the ground and helps him organize the mess he made.

Their hands touch in the frenzy of grabbing papers and straightening them into a neat pile, and Viktor looks up to have the grasp of his own thoughts stolen once again. A pair of shining, wide brown eyes, brings his train of thought to a screeching halt and looking away seems to be an impossible task. His heart swells at the sight of the man’s face so close to his, and he is able to truly admire him. They stare at each other, eyes wide and unable to look away. Their gaze is broken, however, when the man shakes his head and mutters an apology in English.

Viktor takes his hand and helps him stand, easing the papers into his hands. He offers a smile, and the man quickly looks away as a blush begins to appear on his cheeks.

“Goodbye,” he murmurs, returning Viktor’s smile with a small upturn of his lips. he boards the train just before the doors close, and the train begins to pull away.

Viktor is unable to look away as he looks at him out the window. His heart still beats furiously in his chest. He now notices how hot and sweaty his face and neck are, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

What is this feeling?

Viktor’s head is filled with images of the man as he rides his train to the business district of the city, replaying the events from earlier over and over in his mind. The man makes him feel unusual, and the thought of those brown eyes staring directly into his makes his heart skip a beat and nervous sweat beads on his brow. He has no idea who he is or where he went, but Viktor knows that he needs to see him again. He can’t shake the idea of not meeting him once more or at least finding out his name.

He spends the rest of his morning in that haze. Viktor stares out the window in the hallway, waiting to enter the boardroom where the meeting will be held that afternoon. His boss, Yakov, is giving him a disapproving stare. He notices Viktor is not in tip-top shape, but that needs to change immediately. He strides over to Viktor and gives him a nudge on the shoulder before grabbing his tie and yanking him down to eye-level.

“Vitya,” Yakov chides, “you need to focus. If this deal falls through, we’re all going to be in hot water. All the work you’ve poured your heart and soul into these last few years will be for nothing.” Viktor nods. Yakov’s grip tightens on his tie. “You’ve worked too hard, Vitya, for this to go to waste.”

“Yes,” Viktor says with a nod. Yakov releases his tie and smooths it back into place. Viktor watches him walk towards the boardroom, where the much-anticipated meeting will be held in a matter of hours. Viktor finds himself pondering over Yakov’s words; he can’t seem to focus.

Yes, he has poured his heart and soul into his work from the beginning, there’s no doubt about that. Still, if all of that emotion he’s put into this deal is about to pay off in a matter of moments, why does he feel so empty? All his life, Viktor lacked something bigger than work or success. He’s been putting all he has into his job because there’s nothing else he has. If he took work out of his life, there would be nothing left. That fact has never bothered him before, not until today. When he saw that man on the train platform is when it really hit him. He’s been empty, missing out on two things he’s never truly known: life and love. He laid eyes on that beautiful stranger and now all he craves is something more, and his heart and soul is longing for more than just work and business. It needs more.

“Oh, and Viktor,” Yakov calls from the entry to the boardroom, bringing Viktor’s train of thought to a full stop. “You’re like a son to me. You’ll make me proud later today. I know you will.” With a smirk, Yakov enters the boardroom, leaving Viktor alone in the hallway.

Viktor glances out the window, returning to his somewhat overwhelming thoughts. He wishes he could shake the man from his thoughts so he could just focus for a minute; he needs focus and prepare to be able to get through the meeting. The meeting will be later in the afternoon, so he has some time to himself for now. Viktor knows he needs to get ready; this meeting has more weight to it than he’s willing to admit, but work and business just seem like such trivial things right now. He can’t let Yakov and his colleagues down. If only…

The scene outside of the window is boring and dull. Cars are lined up on the street, crowds of pedestrians move to their places of employment, the sun tries to peek out from behind the clouds. Something, though, stands out from the gray of the city. Viktor’s heart leaps into his throat for the second time that day. Across the street, in a conference room much like the one he’ll be entering later today, is the man from the train platform. He presses his hands to the glass and admires him for a moment.

Viktor glances around, making sure no one is there to watch him before waving his arms around and jumping up and down, trying to get the attention of the man. He pounds on the window a few times, but he finds it’s no use; he doesn’t even glance in his direction. Viktor sighs and presses his forehead to the glass, feeling defeated.

His face lights up, eyes practically glowing with the spark of ambition.

Viktor scrambles to the door opposite of the window and throws it open. It’s a small printer room lined with sterile white cabinets and shelves of binders. He opens the first cabinet he sees with enough force to send it slamming against the cabinet next to it. Inside the cabinet is exactly what he’s looking for: packages of printing paper. Viktor grabs a package with one thousand pages in it and rushes back to the window.

Vigorously, Viktor rips open the package and takes out the top piece of paper. Against the windowsill, he folds the paper into the only origami figure he knows: a paper crane. He opens the window and tries to lock eyes with the man from the train platform once again.

He doesn’t catch his gaze.

With a deep breath, Viktor throws the paper crane out of the window and watches as it catches the breeze, soaring over the street below. It’s headed straight for the window; it’s going directly to the one person Viktor longs to know. He feels his heart beat rapidly in his chest, his eyes wide in earnest.

A gust of wind has other plans for the crane, for it throws the folded paper off course in sends it barreling to the pavement where it is run over by a passing car. Viktor curses in Russian under his breath and pounds his fist against the windowsill, glaring down at the street with a glare. Determined, Viktor reaches for another piece of printer paper.

History repeats itself over and over with almost the same result. The stable pile of paper dwindles as Viktor continuously folds paper cranes like a human origami factory. He throws them out the window one after another in hopes of at least one of them reaching that open window on the other side of the street. One paper crane nose dives straight to the sidewalk below, another is knocked to the ground by a bird passing through, another almost makes it, but crashes into the brick next to the window. The street below becomes littered with folded paper cranes, alleyways become lined with piles of them, and a few cranes even end up stuck to the bottoms of the shoes of pedestrians. None of them reach their intended destination, leaving Viktor to tug on his hair and pound his fists against the wall in frustration. A few employees of the building stop to stare at his display, but he pays no mind to them.

“Viktor,” Yakov’s voice rings out in the hallway, startling Viktor as he reaches for the final paper left in the stack. “It’s time.” With a gulp, Viktor closes the window and collects his briefcase reluctantly. He glances out the window one last time before following Yakov into the boardroom.

The meeting begins, but Viktor keeps his eyes on the building just a few short yards away. He doesn’t care to listen in to the idle ‘business’ talk beginning to happen in the boardroom; there’s too much on his mind. He finds himself holding that last piece of paper in front of him, tracing the edges with his fingertips. Slowly, he begins folding the paper like he did so many times today. One step after the other, Viktor carefully crafts the one thousandth paper crane. He holds in his palm and looks out the window at the man who is still sitting there, completely oblivious to Viktor’s presence. He becomes completely detached from the meeting, daydreaming for the first time in a long time; it’s been longer than Viktor even knows.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” Yakov huffs, crossing his arms with a disapproving look adorning his face. Viktor gulps when he realizes just how stupid he must’ve looked: staring out the window with a paper crane in his hand, not paying any attention to the important meeting going on around him. The eyes of his colleagues and the Japanese businesspeople have his full attention. “Is there a problem?”

“Of course not, sir,” Viktor replies, putting on a plastic smile to match his chipper tone. He has always been good at that; he can fake his way through anything. Yakov simply gives him a look of warning through the corner of his eye before turning back to the rest of the table with an apology.

The meeting continues, but Viktor doesn’t look away from the window. he’s right there. he’s so close and so far at the same time, but all he can do is stare. All he would have to do is stand up and walk out. It would be so easy.

But he can’t leave.

Viktor waves out the window whenever eyes are turned away from him. He uses the reflective back of his phone case to create glares of light with the sun towards the window, but to no avail. He cannot receive the attention from the man.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” a man across the table says with a concerned expression. “You look quite red in the face, and you appear to be sweating. Are you okay?”

Becoming a bit self-conscious about his appearance, Viktor wipes the sleeve of his jacket across his forehead. As he does so, another idea pops into his head.

“Actually, I’m feeling a bit hot and dizzy,” he rasps, putting a hand on his forehead for effect. “I think I need to step outside for a moment to get some air. Will you all be okay without me?” Viktor stands as he receives approving nods from the other businesspeople in the room—all except one. Viktor makes his way for the door, but Yakov catches his sleeve and pulls him to his side.

“Vitya,” Yakov whispers harshly through clenched teeth, tugging on Viktor’s sleeve harder, “don’t you dare leave. If you leave, it’ll be over for you. All of this will be for nothing.”

Viktor shifts his gaze from the fury of his boss’s face to that window across the street. He knows he has to make a decision now. He must choose between work and a stranger.

Yakov’s grip is broken when Viktor yanks his sleeve away and strides out of the boardroom with the paper crane in his hand, taking that leap of faith. He maneuvers through the halls of the building to make his way to the lobby, muttering half-hearted apologies to people he runs into. He runs across the street, dodging honking cars and weaving his way to meet the one who stole his heart at a single glance. Paper cranes swirl in the wind and drag along the sidewalk. Many of them seem to follow Viktor as he marches to the grand French doors he has his eyes locked on.

At last, he reaches the building where the man who stole his heart at a single glance awaits. He’s waited all day for this; he’s folded an insane amount of paper cranes for his. In a bit of a rush, Viktor throws open the French doors, instantly colliding with someone as he steps through the threshold. He’s knocked to the ground and a bit stunned from the sudden impact. Rubbing his face, he sits up to see whoever is apologizing furiously above him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t—” the person the voice belongs to cuts himself off once they see his face. Viktor opens his eyes to see her; the man from the train platform is reaching a hand out to him, eyes as wide as they were earlier that morning. “It’s you.”

“It’s you,” Viktor repeats, gratefully taking the man’s hand and standing up. He notes how soft her hands are. He admires his face once again, taking in the way his eyes sparkle. He glances down and sees the man’s name tag. “Yuuri,” he whispers out loud. Yuuri’s face lights up at the sound of his name.

Paper cranes swirl in the lingering breeze, brushing up against the pair’s legs and feet. Yuuri peers at the paper cranes on the ground, then he glances around the street at the paper cranes scattered everywhere. His gaze falls on the paper crane sitting in Viktor’s palm before he looks at Viktor with a quizzical and astonished look.

“Did you do that?” he asks with a laugh. “You folded all of those paper cranes?” Viktor simply shrugs and offers a sheepish smile. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, not used to feeling so warm and fuzzy on the inside. He decides to call this feeling ‘love.’

“I’ve been trying to catch your eye all day.”


End file.
